After All
by Alphie
Summary: Lois finally tells Clark what she wants for Christmas. Written for the Clois ficathon on LJ. Set in the Shadow of my Father time line.
1. Chapter 1

_AN: Here is part one of my Christmas Clois fic that was supposed to be a one shot! I got going and I just couldn't stop! This is set in my "Shadow of Father"and "Being Jason White" timeline, which I think will surprise those of you familiar with those fics. If you haven't read my other stories, never fear. All you need to know is that after "Superman Returns" Lois went ahead and married Richard. Jason's relationship with Supes was a difficult one. Lois didn't find out Clark was Supes until Jason was an adult, and needless to say, she was pretty angry at him for a very long time. Jason is now married to a woman named Kate and they have a son, Eric._

_Many thanks to htbthomas for encouraging me to post this even though it is mammoth in size. To sillybella who made me remember the emotion. And to Hellish Red Devil for sticking with me through Vampires and Superheros._

**Part One**

There comes a point in a woman's life when she just has to toss reason to the wind and let her heart take charge of things. It doesn't matter that her brain continually reminds her of everything that has come before this moment and how painful the past was. What matters is that she has finally realized that all the thinking, all the reasoning, all the "logical arguments" she has made in the past are what have brought her to this point. The pain she has felt over the years is a direct result of following her mind and not her heart. And so, the heart wins. The heart is in control.

That's where I was right in that moment. That's where something called life had brought me. Alone in this bed. Alone in the house. Alone in this life. Alone in a season focused on family. My mind told me it was foolish to even consider the options. But my heart knew better, and my heart told me I couldn't live like this any longer. Besides, what did I have to lose?

I looked up at the blank ceiling and exhaled a deep breath. What _did_ I have to lose? Why had I waited this long to do anything about the situation? There was a good answer to that. I hadn't done anything so far because _he_ hadn't done anything. And there was something I could lose if I actually spoke up and made my feelings known. I could lose him. Granted, I didn't really have him right this second, but at least I had the idea of him. I had the possibility of him. And if I told him what I wanted and he rejected me…again…then I wouldn't even have the dream of someday having him by my side.

I rolled over and smashed my pillow with my fist, exhaling yet again. My thoughts and emotions were in such a jumble I knew there was no chance that I would sleep tonight. I hadn't slept for the last few nights. I hadn't done anything really but stare at the boxes of Christmas ornaments that should be hanging on a tree. I figured there wasn't much point in putting them up this year. Who would see them other than me? Jason had a home of his own now and he would be spending the holidays there. I knew I could visit them, but it wasn't the same. I wanted someone to share the holiday with _here_. And I knew exactly who that someone was. Besides, isn't Christmas the time when you are supposed to put the past behind you and learn to move on?

I was afraid of so many things…and yet strangely hopeful at the same time. I was afraid of his rejection, but yet hopeful that he would succumb to my wishes. I was afraid of letting the world know how I felt towards him, and yet hopeful of living a life where I wasn't pretending anymore.

It was frustrating – emotionally and mentally. I was at the end of my rope. The tether was wearing thin. Whatever cliché you could think of, that's how I felt. But worse than that…it was sexually frustrating. To see him nearly every day… to hear his voice… to stand so close to him on the elevator and know the only thing keeping us apart right now was five inches of space and a few layers of clothing…

So frustrating!

I huffed and rolled onto my back once again and glanced over at the clock. It was after midnight and time was up. I couldn't wait any longer. It had to be done. I was sick of waiting for him to make a move. Given everything Jason had to go through to get him to open up about their relationship, I had come to realize that if anyone was going to attempt to get the ball rolling, it would have to be me. I wasn't getting any younger. If I waited much longer, I would be old and decrepit and way past my prime to actually enjoy the experience.

"Clark?" I said out loud to the ceiling. "Can you hear me?" I pursed my lips. "I'm just going to assume that you can hear me – that you are listening. 'Cause if you aren't, then this is a really silly conversation I'm having with empty space."

I licked my lips, gathering up my courage to continue. "I need to talk to you. Tonight. Now, if possible. And it needs to be you. I need Clark here. So, if you aren't busy saving people from dying, then I'd really like…" I didn't know the right way to finish. I would like to see you? I would like you to hold me? I would like to make love to you right here and now before I die of extreme frustration?

"Clark? Please?" I said. And when there was no answer, I pulled the pillow over my face growled in aggravation.

"You realize that it's nearly impossible to suffocate yourself with a pillow."

I sat up straight at the sound of his voice, the pillow falling from my grasp. "What?"

"The pillow," he said, stepping away from the window. "When you would lose consciousness, your grip on the pillow would loosen just enough that a small amount of oxygen would be allowed to reach your mouth and nose. So, it's nearly impossible to kill yourself with a pillow. Just so you know."

"I wasn't trying to kill myself."

"That's too bad."

"Why? Do you want me dead?"

"No, of course not, but if you were in danger, then I'd have to rescue you."

I smiled at him. "Is this your way of flirting?"

In the darkness of the room, I could see that he looked puzzled. "I'm not flirting, Lois. I'm just stating a fact."

"Oh, I was hoping you were flirting," I admitted

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "You were?"

My smile widened, but I didn't answer him. "Did you fly over here?"

"Yes."

"Dressed like that?"

He looked down at his flannel shirt and jeans combo. "No, but you asked for Clark. So…here I am."

"Here you are," I repeated. "Glasses and all."

Quickly, as if he were embarrassed, he took off his glasses and laid them on the end table.

"That's amazing, you know," I said, taking in his appearance. "How different you look with just a pair of glasses."

He gave me that trademark lopsided grin of his that I found irresistible. "Well, the hair is different. And the suit."

I snorted. "Yeah, I have to admit that the suit does kind of pull a girl's attention away from your face."

Now he really was embarrassed, for there was enough moonlight spilling into the room for me to see that he blushed scarlet. "That's not why I wear the suit."

"I know, but that doesn't mean that I don't like it."

Our eyes met then and the air was heavy with unspoken words.

"Sit down," I said after a long moment.

He glanced at the foot of the bed in worry. "Here?"

"Yes. Why? Is there something wrong with the bed?"

He looked up at me. "No, I just thought that maybe we'd… you'd…be more comfortable… in the living room."

The underlying sentiment in that statement was that _he_ would feel more comfortable in the living room, but I wasn't about to give in to that. "No, I'm pretty comfortable right here," I said, pointedly.

Our eyes met again and I could see the honest confusion on his face. I couldn't blame him. This was an unusual conversation so far. We usually stuck to mutually important topics, like news events or things going on in Jason's life. The fact that we were in my bedroom and I was down right flirting with him was something that hadn't happened since… well… I couldn't remember when. Literally.

"You're sure you don't want to go in the living room?" he asked again.

"No, it's a mess with all the boxes."

"Boxes?"

"Christmas ornaments. I don't have a tree yet."

His face brightened. "I could get you a tree, Lois. It wouldn't be any bother."

I laughed at his sorry attempt to avoid the subject at hand. "Will you just sit down?"

Carefully, as if he were afraid the bed would crumble beneath him, he sat down at the foot of the bed, as far away from me as possible. He glanced at me briefly, and I tried to hide my pleasure at the way his eyes skimmed over my body before darting away to look down at his hands. For the first time, I considered the fact that I was wearing only the flimsiest of camisole shirts – no bra - and pajama bottoms. It spoke volumes to his character that he only took a quick glance at me.

"How's your story going?" he asked quietly.

I chuckled. "Do you really want to talk about work?"

He looked up at me in surprise. "Is there something…else…you wanted to talk about? I mean, you did ask me to come over here, so I assumed there was a reason."

"There is a reason," I confirmed, "but it doesn't have anything to do with work."

"Is something going on with Jason? Is Eric okay?"

I smiled sadly at the concern in his voice. There would always be some tension between Clark and Jason, for I knew that deep down Clark blamed himself for everything that had happened in the past. I also knew that he worried endlessly about little Eric and how his own life would be affected by his heritage.

"This doesn't have anything to do with anyone else but us, Clark," I assured him.

"Us?" he said hesitantly.

"Yes, _us_," I stressed. "You and me and this sad sort of dance we've been doing around each other for all these years."

I could almost see the wheels spinning in his head as he thought about what he should say next – about what was _appropriate_ for him to say. Suddenly, I was very worried that he would say something to mess up this moment. "Lois—"

"Please, let me get this out before I lose the courage."

He blinked. "Okay."

I took a deep breath and repositioned myself on the bed so that I was sitting closer to him, with one leg dangling off the side and the other bent and laying in front of me.

"I've been doing a lot of thinking. I've spent every night for the past year or so thinking about… everything. I lay here alone at night with nothing else to do but think about you and me and what we've done in the past and what I want for the future. I've waited – waited for you to come and tell me that you think about the same things – that you want the same things. But I realized recently that you aren't the type to make the first move. Look at how long Jason waited for you to make that first move."

Hurt briefly flashed on his face. "Lois—"

"I didn't mean anything by that. I only use it as an example. You would never come to me and tell me what _you_ want. So, if anyone is going to get the ball rolling, then it would have to be me."

He frowned. "I don't – I don't understand. What exactly is it that you've been waiting for? What is it that I'm—"

"Clark," I interrupted. "Come _on_. I'm…single."

His eyes immediately fell down to his hands. "You're mourning."

"Yes, and feeling guilty the whole time."

That took him by surprise. "Guilty?"

"That I put him through this. That I held on to him for so long when I should have let him go."

That didn't seem to help him much, for the next words out of his mouth were, "I still don't understand."

"Richard loved me. He loved me completely. He was everything a woman could want in a man; smart, funny, handsome. He was an amazing husband and a devoted father."

Clark looked away and I could just imagine the self-deprecating comments running though his mind upon hearing my words. I had to talk fast and get this all out before he really started wallowing in it.

"He loved me," I went on, "even though he knew I was in love with someone else."

Clark's eyes met mine again, a look of disbelief on his face.

"I loved him, Clark. But he knew there was someone I loved more."

Apparently I had rendered Clark speechless, for he stared back at me in wordless wonder.

"He even asked me about you once," I smiled. "He asked me if I loved you. What's so funny about it is that we had dished the dirt about all our old boyfriends and girlfriends. We'd even admitted to falling in love with some of them, or at least thinking we had fallen in love. But when he asked me if I loved you, I told him no. I could tell him that I thought I loved some boy back in the eleventh grade whose name I couldn't even remember because he was no long important in my life. But when it came to telling him about you…I had to flat out lie and tell him no, I didn't love you. To his credit, he didn't press me about it. But I know he knew I was lying."

Clark swallowed and went to say something, but I wasn't finished. I needed to say this – I needed to get it all out before I could give him a chance to speak and perhaps crush all my dreams in one fell swoop.

"I felt guilty for it. I felt guilty almost every moment of my life. I knew that I couldn't have you, but at least I could have Richard. It was wrong of me to cling to him like that. I should have told him the whole truth and let him find someone who could love him the way he deserved to be loved, but I loved him enough that I was afraid of losing him. It was hard enough that I lost _you_. I didn't know what I would do if I lost _him_, too. So I held on to him, married him, built a life with him – all the while hoping that someday I would wake up and find that I loved him more than I loved you." I took a deep breath before adding, "But that never happened."

I pulled my eyes away from his face and looked over at the empty space beside me. "Now that he's gone, another form of guilt has developed inside of me… because I miss him, Clark. I miss him so much that it hurts."

"He was your husband," Clark's deep voice rumbled, drawing my attention. "You shouldn't feel guilty that you miss your husband."

"That's not why I feel guilty." I leaned forward, wanting to be closer to him. "I lie here night after night feeling so alone. And when I wake up in the morning, I reach out in the hope that I'll find someone there to comfort me. But it isn't Richard that I'm wanting." For emphasis, I stretched my hand forward and gently placed it in his.

His eyes darted from our hands back up to my face.

"I love you, Clark," I said at long last. "I've always loved you and I always will."

He stared back at me with an incredulous and almost worried look on his face. "How can you love me?" he asked softly. "I _hurt_ you."

"Yes, you did." I didn't try to deny it.

"I failed you, and then I left you."

I nodded. "I know."

"No matter how much I try to make things right, I have done everything wrong for you. How can you say that you loved _me_? That you love me more than you loved Richard?"

I pursed my lips. "I don't know, but I do. Believe me, I've tried to _not_ love you, and I just can't. You broke my heart," I said in a near whisper. "But I also know that you're the only one who can mend it and make me feel whole again."

His hand tightened around mine and I could see his chest rising and falling more rapidly as his breath became shallower. "Oh, Lois," he murmured. "I don't know what to say."

"Just…" I shook my head and wet my lips. "Just say that you love me."

He gave a small, audible gasp. His eyes roamed over my face as if he were searching for something. "How do you remember that?"

"Remember what?"

"Those words." To my surprise, he scooted closer to me on the bed. "We've said those words to each other before."

"We have?" I said, a bit shocked, for I had no recollection of him ever telling me that he loved me.

He nodded, his eyes holding fast to mine.

"I don't remember," I admitted. "But I wish I did. I wish I could remember everything."

His eyes, so deep and blue, bore into my soul. "Lois," he said, brushing the back of his hand against my cheek. "I love you so much."

I closed my eyes and let the words sink into my heart and fill my body with the most calm and peaceful feeling. When I opened my eyes, he was holding my face in his hands, stroking my skin with his thumbs. His gaze lingered on my mouth.

"You have no idea what you mean to me," he said, leaning in so close to me now that I could feel his breath against my skin.

I wanted him to kiss me. I had no memory of him ever kissing me, and yet I knew he had at some point. Nearly begging for what I hoped would come next, I said, "Then show me."

_AN2: Just so no one has to ask, Richard died of an undetected aneurysm. I would have said more about his death in the fic, but this story is Clark's and Lois' story – not Richard's. I figured he had to die of some kind of natural cause and not an accident, or else I'd run the risk of Lois and/or Jason blaming Supes for not being able to save him. The way I picture it, Richard just collapsed one day at work. Lois and Clark were both there and Richard was dead before they could even get him to the hospital. It was no one's fault and there wasn't anything anyone could do. _


	2. Chapter 2

AN: If you haven't seen Superman II…first of all, what are you doing reading Clois fics

_AN: If you haven't seen Superman II…first of all, what are you doing reading Clois fics? And second of all, I'm going to spoil it for you, so go and watch it! I don't know about any of you, but when I watch Superman II now, I keep trying to picture Brandon Routh and Kate Bosworth in the Fortress. Christopher Reeve was a great Superman, but I'm so into Brandon right now that it's pathetic! _

_I was told I need to put a warning at the start of this. Some of this section is heavy on the mature side of things. So if you are under age, don't read this. And if you are at work, you might want to wait until you are home or you are sure no co-workers are going to spot your computer! The rating will change on this fic to that of M, which means the fic will no longer show up on the main list. Make sure you add me to your alert list so you can find the next update!_

_Again, thanks to htbthomas, sillybella, and Hellish. You all ROX!!_

**Part Two**

With the most tender, most gentle touch, his mouth met mine in a heart-stopping kiss. Breaking away ever so slightly, he repositioned his mouth against mine and kissed me fully, deeply, until I was dizzy with desire. It was electrifying. My mind reeled as I clung to him and pulled him closer to me, never wanting the kiss to end.

Suddenly and without warning, I remembered being kissed like this once before - this slow, intense kiss that demanded both my body and soul to respond in such a meaningful way. He'd kissed me like this years ago…after he'd defeated Zod…after I'd figured out who he was…after we had made love for the first time.

I gasped and pulled away from him, stunned as one by one the memories came flooding back into my mind, clicking into place. The Fortress – so white and beautiful. His mother – Lara – asking if this was really what he wanted. And him – stepping into a chamber and becoming mortal, all because he loved me.

My breath hitched as I realized once and for all everything he had given up for me.

And then I remembered us. I remembered his touch – his kiss – his body. I remembered the way his skin felt against mine, the way his body responded to my touch, the way it felt to have him above me…inside me. The power of those memories swept over me in a tidal wave of emotion, making me gasp in awe of it all.

I looked into his face, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill over. "Oh, Clark."

He was still cupping my face in his hands, and I reached up and covered his hands with mine. "You remember?" he asked softly.

I nodded, unable to find the words that did justice to what I was feeling. Because I remembered everything now. I remembered the agony of thinking he was dead and the overwhelming joy that he was still alive. I remembered how hopeless I felt when I thought his powers were taken from him a second time, as well as the triumph I felt once I realized it had all been a trick. And then I remembered the day after…when I realized he would never be a part of my life the way I wanted him to be. That we could never be together. That I would have to spend the rest of my life pretending that I didn't love him as deeply as I did. And it broke me.

For the first time in my life, I understood why he did what he did – why he took my memories of those ephemeral days away. I laughed at him once for saying that he did it because he loved me and wanted me to be happy, but now I knew without a shadow of a doubt that he was telling the truth. I couldn't blame him any longer for taking those agonizingly blissful memories away.

I felt the tears roll down my cheeks, and he lovingly brushed them away with his thumbs. "Are you very angry at me?" he said in a shaky voice so uncharacteristic of him. "You said that you wanted to remember. Are you angry at me for showing you?"

"No," I managed. "How could I be angry with you when you've given me so much?"

His face softened. "I do love you, Lois. So much"

"I know. I know that now more than ever."

His breathing was shallow, and then I noticed that mine was too. My heart felt as if it might leap out of my chest it was beating so rapidly. The air was charged with physical electricity and time seemed to slow as he drew me closer to him.

"I – I—" He wet his lips as his hands slipped down my sides to my waist. "Lois, I—"

I was done talking. I was done waiting. Forcefully, I took his face in my hands and pulled him to me, kissing him with all the love I felt in my body. I wove my hands through his thick hair, holding him to me as our tongues dueled for control. His chest was pressed against mine, and I reveled in the feel of having him this close. But it wasn't enough. I wanted more. I needed him closer.

In a movement that shocked even myself, I slid my bent leg, which was currently trapped between us, out and around to the side. It didn't even take him an instant to realize what I had done and the message behind this new position. His hand slid down my leg that was draped over the edge of the bed and pulled it up so that I was now straddling him. Slowly, carefully, never halting his passionate kisses, he lowered me to the bed until I was fully beneath him.

Our bodies touched from head to foot. Our mouths were fused together in a heated kiss. His hands wandered down my sides, scraping his fingers against my breasts and causing me to shiver in delight. Our legs entwined, fighting for space and the correct angle to bring us even closer together. I bent one leg up along his side and wrapped my other one around one of his legs, bringing our hips together in a blinding moment of passion. To my joy, he pressed himself hard against me and then repeated the action, making me wish he would rip his clothing off so that we could do this properly.

His hand found its way under my shirt to my bare skin. His touch was so gentle it made me ache for more. He covered my breast with his palm and squeezed gently, letting go just long enough to tease my nipple into a hard peak and drive me wild in the process. I arched upward, begging him for more. He kneaded the flesh of my breast again, sending a stream of pleasure through my body as he increased the pressure of his touch. I moaned in utter delight, completely lost in the feel of his warm hands on my body and wanting more than ever to feel his skin against mine.

And then it was over. He moved away from me so quickly I didn't have a chance to protest. "I can't do this, Lois," he mumbled into a pillow. He collapsed flat on his stomach, keeping his face turned away from me. "I just can't," he panted.

I scowled in displeasure. "Yes you can, Clark."

He shook his head, but didn't turn to look at me. "No, really. I can't. I don't want to hurt you."

"Too late," I sighed. "You just did."

Abruptly, his head turned so that he could look at me with despair. "I'm so sorry," he whispered.

"This is ridiculous, Clark!" I grumbled. "I know that you have certain rules and that there are things you just aren't supposed to allow yourself to have, but this… this…" I gaped at him. "I can't do this anymore!"

"This doesn't have anything to do with the rules, Lois," he said plainly. "I gave up trying to live by those rules a long time ago."

He had spoken so matter-of-factly that I was left feeling a bit stunned. "But I thought that you weren't supposed to-"

"Value one life over another?" he finished for me. "That's a little pointless considering how much I love you. You and Jason…and now Kate and little Eric… I can't help but value your livese over someone else's. If it came down to saving your life or saving some stranger, Lois, you have to know that you would win every time."

I bit at my bottom lip, mulling over what he was telling me, realizing how much it meant to me to hear him say it.

"And as far as interfering with human history," he continued calmly, tucking the pillow under his chin, "Well, that's pointless, too. I've often wondered just how I am supposed to save anyone's life while not interfering with human history. I mean, what if I save someone who was supposed to die? What if I save someone who goes on to be the President? Or ends up becoming a terrorist? Wouldn't that change history?"

He sighed and looked away from me. "And then there's Jason."

"Jason?"

"Saving a life is one thing. Creating a life is another." He looked over at me and smiled. "I have a son. And he has a son. Who knows how many generation will come after that. If that's not changing history, then I don't know what is."

I rolled onto my side and took his hand in mine. "When did you come to this conclusion?"

"Around the time Jason got married – when I told you the truth about who I was. I saw how happy he was with Kate. I saw him living a relatively normal life. Kate knows all of his secrets, and they don't seem to matter to her. She loves him and she helps keep his secrets. And they're happy… like a family should be. I realized that if I had made a few different choices, I could have had that kind of life."

My heart broke at the regret I heard in his voice and I needed to let him know that he hadn't lost out on everything. Scooting closer to him I said, "Clark, you can still have that kind of life."

His nose brushed against mine and his eyes fell closed. "No, Lois, I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because," he sighed heavily, opening his eyes. "I don't want to hurt you."

"The only way you could hurt me is to leave me again."

"That's not what I mean. I mean…hurt you…physically."

I finally understood, and my mouth formed an "o" in response.

"You don't know how careful I always am. Whenever I touch someone, I'm always very aware of how fragile they are in comparison to me. I could hurt you so easily. I could kill you, Lois. I constantly remind myself that I have to be gentle, and I don't think…" He groaned and buried his face in the pillow again.

"What?" I pressed. "Please tell me."

He rolled onto his side to face me. "It's very difficult, Lois. I can't concentrate. When you kiss me… I can't focus." His fingers brushed against my face. "You're so beautiful. And I want you so much. I want this so badly that I don't think I'll be able to remember to be gentle."

"Well," I sighed, "what if I don't want you to be gentle?"

He rolled his eyes. "Be serious, Lois."

"I am serious."

"So am I." He fell against the bed to lie on his back. "I just can't do this."

I wasn't going to give up without a fight. There had to be a way. I rested my hand on his chest and raised myself up on my elbow to look down at him. "You weren't hurting me just now."

"You groaned."

"In pleasure," I said, stating what I thought was the obvious. "Clark, what you were doing to me felt good and I responded to it vocally. That happens when people make love, you know."

He shook his head. "I know, but I just—"

"We've made love before and you didn't hurt me then."

He gave me a long, hard look. "I was mortal. I couldn't have hurt you."

I pressed my lips together, knowing he was right and hating it. And then the thought struck me… and it was an uncomfortable thought, but it was valid nonetheless. "Okay, this isn't exactly something I enjoy thinking about. In fact, I'm pretty sure most mothers would rather not think about this sort of thing, but I feel I need to point out that… Jason… makes love to Kate. He doesn't hurt her. At least… well… it's none of my business, I guess, but you see what I'm saying?"

"Lois," he said, stopping me from any saying more embarrassing comments. "I'm a lot stronger than Jason."

I frowned and fell back down to the bed. "I know."

We lay there silently for a moment, our hands clasped together and our sides touching. So close… and yet so far. And then he sat up, raking his hand through his hair and exhaling a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Lois."

He was giving up. And my heart stopped at the very idea that he might leave me and we'd never have this chance again. "What about—" I didn't want to bring this up, but I was desperate. "What about all the times in the past. What did you do then?"

He twisted around to look at me. "What do you mean?"

I sat up. "Well, what did you do… in other… situations?"

He frowned at me in honest confusion. "I don't understand. What other situations?"

I closed my eyes, not able to look at him as I said, "With other women. How did you… you know… control it then?"

"What other women?"

Was he being mean, making me say this? Was this payback? "Others… after me."

He blinked and locked eyes with mine. "Lois," he said almost reverently. "There wasn't anyone after you. There's never been anyone _but_ you."

My heart skipped a beat as I wrapped my brain around his words. Surely he wasn't saying that I… that he… It had been years since we had been together. There had to have been someone else in his life. I couldn't think of anyone. I'd never seen him with anyone else. But still. It was unfathomable to even consider.

"Are you saying," I began, needing clarity on the situation, "that you've never been with anyone but me?"

He gave me a very pointed but loving look. "You're the love of my life. How could I be with someone that wasn't you? Anyone else would pale in comparison."

I exhaled slowly, staring at him in utter amazement and feeling as if my insides would melt from the sentiment of his words. I closed my eyes and shook my head, determined now more than ever that neither of us would leave this room tonight until we were completely ravished.

"That settles it," I stated. "We are going to make love."

He cocked is head to the side. "Lois—"

I moved to kneel on the bed next to him and push him slowly down to the mattress. "We are making love right here." Boldly, I straddled his hips. "Right now."

And we did.


	3. Chapter 3

Part Four

_AN: I have to tattle on myself. When I started writing this fic, I had no mention of Christmas whatsoever. I don't know how I missed that part of the challenge, but it was Barbara who said, "Where's the Christmas part?" So then I started thinking of how to add something in…and what came to mind is what you will find here in part three. I could have posted just this section to meet the challenge requirements, but I already had all that other stuff written, and I didn't want to just toss it out. So…the fic grew in length until it was a true three parter. I know the rest of the story wasn't really Christmassy, so I hope this makes up for it._

_Obviously I have to thank htbthomas for telling me I had to write about Christmas! To sillybella for the spacing. And to Hellish for being so observant._

**Part Four**

It was morning. I could tell from the light streaming in through the window. But I didn't want to open my eyes just yet. I just wanted to lie in my bed and bask in the afterglow of an amazing, passion-filled night.

I smiled to myself as I remembered in vivid detail every touch, every kiss, every thrust of his body against mine. We made love like teenagers, randy and wild and out of control. And after a short nap, he roused me from slumber with feather-light kisses and we made love once more. His dedication in giving me pleasure had not gone unnoticed; I had found myself in the throes of sensual abandon far more than once.

Instinctively, I reached out for him, brushing my hand over the other side of the bed only to find it empty. My eyes flew open in fear. Not only was the bed empty, but it was cold. Too cold. He hadn't been here for a while. The sheets would have been warm from his elevated body heat.

I panicked and sat up straight in bed. I couldn't possibly have dreamed it all up, could I? No dream I'd ever had of him was that detailed… or that good. "Clark?" I worriedly called out into the room. "Clark?"

He appeared in the doorway dressed in the same jeans and shirt from the night before and grinning madly. "Good morning! I wondered when you would wake up."

I breathed a sigh of relief and reached out towards him.

He approached the bed without any hesitation and kissed me. Taking my hand, he sat down on the bed and asked, "Did you sleep well?"

"What are you doing awake?" I groaned, slightly put off by his perkiness at such an ungodly hour of the morning.

He looked at me as if I had worms coming out of my ears. "It's eight. I'm always awake by now. The sun's up."

"It's Saturday," I whined. "I sleep in on Saturdays."

"Sorry," he said sheepishly. "I don't usually stay in bed once the sun's up."

"Is this some sort of habitual farm boy thing?" I drawled.

"No, it's more of a Kryptonian thing."

I hadn't been expecting that. He'd said twice now that the sun was up. I should have known that the sunshine would draw him out of bed.

"Sorry," I sighed. "I wasn't thinking."

"It's okay," he laughed.

"I just was really looking forward to waking up in your arms," I admitted, pulling on his arm and bringing him close enough for me to kiss his mouth.

I deepened the kiss, wrapping my arms around his middle and pulling him towards me again. His mouth opened and his tongue met mine as I started to lie back against the bed, bringing him down with me.

"Nuh uh," he hummed, pulling away from me. "No, you don't. I have something to show you before we get all caught up in that again."

"Clark," I whimpered, collapsing back onto the bed. "I don't want to get up."

"But I have a surprise for you."

"And I have one for you," I grabbed his arm again. "If you come back to bed, I'll be more than happy to give it to you."

He kissed me again, and for a brief moment I thought he just might give in to me, but it wasn't to be. He stood up and tugged on my arm, signaling that I was supposed to get up, too. "First my surprise…and then yours. Okay?" He tossed my pajamas at me. "Get dressed."

I groaned and started to slip into my clothes. "Do I have any choice in this?"

"Not really. You have a choice between walking into the living room or being carried into the living room." He put in helpfully.

I lifted my arms up towards him playfully, thinking he was joking about carrying me. He wasn't. Swiftly, as if I didn't weigh a thing, he scooped me up in his arms and carried me into the other room as if I were a princess.

What I saw there left me momentarily speechless.

The whole room was decorated for Christmas. One glance around told me that I was wrong – the entire _house_ had been decorated for Christmas. Garland draped the mantle with red-and-white stockings hanging from shiny brass hooks. A huge Yule Log sat on the center of the table with four tall candles jutting upwards out of the middle. Miniature figurines of snowmen and Santa Clause covered the bookshelves. Two oversized planters of poinsettias stood on either side of the doorway. From the stair railing hung more garland, looped generously over the handrail with large, red bows. And lights – everywhere I looked there were lights twinkling and dancing in random patterns.

But the main focus of the house was standing in the corner: the Christmas tree. It was tall – so tall it nearly touched the ceiling – and thick. I don't think I could ever remember seeing a tree with such thick branches. It didn't look real, it was so perfectly beautiful. And the ornaments made it seem as if a designer had decorated it. It was all-white with touches of gold and silver and the most divine-looking angle perched on its top.

My mouth hung open as I took it all in. Clark lowered me to my feet, holding on to my waist to make sure I was steady. "Do you like it?" he whispered in my ear from behind me.

"Like it? It's amazing!"

His arms wrapped around me and he kissed my neck. "I couldn't stand the thought of you not having a tree."

"This is more than a tree, Clark."

"Is it too much?" I could hear the worry in his voice.

"No, it's – wonderful. How did you do this?"

"Lois," He bent his head over my shoulder to try to look at my face. "It didn't take me that long."

I closed my eyes, realizing how stupid I must have sounded. Of course it wouldn't take him long to do something like this. He was, after all, the fastest man on the planet.

I looked around the room again, trying to absorb every detail. "Where did you get a tree like that…and at this hour of the morning?"

"Oh, just a place I know that has really great pine trees."

"I think it's the most beautiful tree I've ever seen, and I mean without the decorations even. You have to tell me the name of the man who sold it to you so I can use him again next year."

Clark chuckled. "I didn't buy it, Lois."

I swiveled around to look up at him. "You stole it?"

"No, I got it from the forest."

I was almost afraid to ask my next question, for there weren't many forests close to Metropolis. "Which forest?"

"A forest…in the Alps."

"You went to Switzerland for my Christmas tree?"

He shrugged. "They have the best trees."

I nodded in understanding. "Pretty impressive, Clark."

And then my senses took notice of the most delicious aroma coming from the kitchen. "Is that coffee?"

"Uh huh," he hummed.

I walked into the kitchen to find two neatly arranged place settings at the counter.

"Want a cup?" he asked, coming around the counter and pouring me some coffee.

I took it from him and nearly came undone from the flavor. "Oh, this is _delicious_! What brand is it?"

"Columbian," he said casually.

I swallowed hard. "As in…from Columbia?"

He nodded and held out a plate. "Are you hungry?"

"Croissants?" I marveled, picking up one of the fluffy pastries. "Let me guess – fresh from Paris?"

He grinned. "You're starting to catch on."

"And you are spoiling me rotten."

He leaned on the counter, resting on his elbows. "Yes, I am. I've waited years to be able to spoil you like this, and I intend to continue spoiling you for the rest of your life."

"I can agree to that." I leaned over towards him and gave him a gentle, chaste kiss.  
"So then… where's my present?"

"Present?"

I laughed. "Don't tell me you went through all this trouble decorating the house and didn't buy me a present! I know you too well for that, Clark Kent."

"Well, yes, I do have a gift for you, but first of all, it's not Christmas Day, and second of all, I think I'm going to take it back and get you something else."

I frowned. "Why?"

"Well, I bought it about a month ago. In light of everything that happened last night," his cheeks turned the most delicious shade of pink, "I think I need to give you something more… personal."

"Hang on a sec. You bought me a present a month ago?"

"Yes."

"Why?" I was surprised by this information simply because he hadn't given me a gift in years. He used to give me the silliest, most pointless presents all the time when we would meet up at the annual office party. Every year, like clockwork, Clark had given me something so random and bizarre that I actually started looking forward to his gifts. But he stopped the tradition about six years ago… when he told me who he really was.

"Well," he said, joining me on the other side of the counter and pulling out a chair for me to sit down. "Jason invited me over for Christmas and told me you would probably be there."

"So?"

He sat down in the seat next to mine. "Oh, come on, Lois. I know you were mad at me for a long time, but did you really think I was such a jerk that I would come to a Christmas party at my son's house without bringing gifts?"

"But you haven't given me a present in years."

"No, I haven't," he said, taking a sip of my coffee.

I was curious. "Why did you stop?"

"Because you were angry at me. I didn't want to risk giving you a gift only to have it thrown at my head."

I gave a small laugh and looked down at my croissant. "You used to give me some of the most insane presents, Clark. But they always made me laugh."

"They weren't insane," he countered.

I smirked at him. "Yes, they were. And so totally random."

He shook his head. "There wasn't anything random about any of them."

I scowled at him. "Clark! They were like gag gifts – the kind of things you give to a coworker as a joke."

His eyes met mine. "You thought they were funny?"

"They _were_ funny."

He hummed thoughtfully.

He had to be kidding me. I started running down the list of gifts in my head. "You don't think one of those cheap, little metal Eiffel Tower figurines is a funny gift to give to a friend?"

"I saved you at the Eiffel Tower once."

I froze.

"There were terrorists and they put a bomb on the elevator. For some unknown reason that I still don't understand, you thought it would be a good idea to climb under the elevator and hitch a ride."

I blinked in amazement. That stupid figurine that I laughed at had actually meant something to him. It should have meant something to me, too, only I hadn't understood at the time. How many more of his random gifts had a hidden meaning?

"Okay," I pondered. "How about that silly, little toy helicopter?"

"That was for the first time I flew with you."

I sighed, completely baffled at how it was I hadn't thought of that.

"The coffee mug," I challenged. "What did the coffee mug mean?"

"It had a picture of Niagara Falls on it."

My heart was racing in my chest. Had he really been sending me gifts all these years that were symbolic of our time together and I was simply too clueless to notice?

"The gift card!" I said, convinced I'd actually found one that had no meaning attached to it whatsoever. "You gave me a ten-dollar gift card to the House of Thi, which was some of the worst food I ever ate, mind you."

"Yeah, it wasn't really very good food." He cocked an eyebrow at me. "Why do you think I only gave you ten-dollars worth? You should have taken the hint and only spent ten dollars."

"So, that one didn't have any meaning!" I crowed in triumph.

He shifted in his seat. "Actually it did, it was just rather obscure. I went there for lunch one day and saw that the centerpieces – these exotic orange flowers – were the same kind of flowers that I brought to you… at the Fortress… when we were together."

My insides turned into a gooey mush at his words. All I could do was gape at him in wonder. I covered my mouth with my hand as the full realization of what he had done for me sank into my brain. I had laughed at those gifts – mocked them – even made fun of some of them. And now I found, to my utter amazement, that each and every one had represented a special memory for him – for us. I stifled back a sob, but couldn't stop my eyes from filling up with tears this time.

"Are you all right?" he asked, placing a comforting hand on my knee.

"No, I'm not all right! I've missed so much! We've wasted so much time!"

"Lois—"

Before he could say anything more, I took his face in my hands and pulled him to me, kissing him deeply, soundly. "I love you," I professed. "With all my heart, I love you."

"I love _you_," he echoed.

I nearly leapt into his arms, I wanted him so much. My brain was on overload; from the decorations to the food to the gifts to the knowledge that he loved me and had always loved me, even when I was awful to him…it was too much, and not enough at the same time. I clung to him, pressing my body against his and marveling at the joy of having him at long last.

He stood up, still holding me to him, and drew my legs around his waist. Effortlessly, he carried me to the bedroom, planting hot kisses over my neck and throat all the way. Within what seemed like mere seconds, we were on the bed, naked, our bodies and limbs intertwined and writhing in desperate need. Our passion was unrestrained and wild with reckless abandon. We reached the peak of fulfillment as one and soared over the edge into our own private heaven. And when it was over and the passion was spent, I draped my body over his and enjoyed the journey back to earth, completely sated and delirious with relief and happiness.

He kissed the top of my head and held me against his side. "I told you I'd come back to bed after you saw my surprise," he teased.

I chuckled. "Just promise me that tomorrow you won't get out of bed so early."

"I promise."

I was starting to drift off to sleep when his voice called me back. "Lois?"

"Hum?"

"Is there anything special you want for Christmas?"

"I have what I want," I said honestly. "I only ever wanted you."

"You know, Lois, you never lost me."

"Hum?" I was too sleepy to understand him without explanation.

"Last night… you said you lost me once. I'm telling you now that you never lost me. I was always yours."

I rose up slightly to look into his handsome face. There was so much that still needed to be said. So many things still to work out. But for now, all that mattered was that he was here with me – in my arms – and he loved me.

He kissed me one last time before I fell into a peaceful slumber. "And I always will be."

_AN: I intend to add more to this story line in the future. After all, in my mind, shortly after this moment, the phone rings and it's…Jason. Is anyone else curious to know what Jason said when he found out his parents – his REAL parents – were sleeping together? Hehehe…._


End file.
